Of Shadow and Ice
by ChaosBearer
Summary: story of Arthas and the invasion of Quel'Thalas(not exactly as it took place in game)


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Of Shadow and Ice

Prologue: The Gathering Shadow

The formless, shadowy figure floated through the darkened halls, of the few remaining servants still in the palace not one saw it. It was making its way through the very palace of the king of Lordaeron, which, along with the rest of the broken country, was under the control of the Dark Prince. The kingdom of Lordaeron was now under the subjugation of the Scourge, led by Arthas, the son of the late King Terenas. A grim smile crept onto the shadow's wavering face as it thought of the recent turmoil and chaos that was raging around it, and an event that pleased it to no end was the recent disposure of the king and the succession of Arthas, the Dark Prince. These desecrated corridors would have driven nearly any other being mad with depression, but the shade rather enjoyed the brooding sense hanging in the air. The shadow continued to lose itself in thought as it floated through the once grand halls, now mere mockeries of their former selves. The political climate in the realm was in utter turmoil, the Alliance was disintegrating, as Lordaeron had been the prime factors in its beginning and its holding together. The elves had already left, along with several of the stronger nations, and those that did remain bickered to no end.

The specter was nearly at his destination when he came back to the present, all that separated him was a set of gigantic double doors, panted black with iron studs around their edges. The shade advanced, passing straight through the closed doors and into the antechamber of the Prince's bedroom. Arthas was standing in front of a large mirror, donning the last of his armor and buckling on his scabbard with the dreaded blade, Frostmourne. Though few creatures on this planet would have known of the shadow's presence, as he had no reflection in the large mirror, Arthas, however, did, and waited until he had finished with his sword before turning. "Well, Kel'Thuzad?" said Arthas, in a voice that chilled even the dark mage.

"The troops have nearly finished forming up, once we arrive at the council hall you may give your final orders to your generals, my Lord."

"Very well." said Arthas, and with that he started toward the door. Kel'Thuzad watched Arthas approach, being of above average height and of decent build, he had not been anything special before the Fall, but now, now he was a force to be reckoned with, with the appearance to match. His skin was very pale, and had an icy hue, his once rich, green eyes were now a freezing, sharp gray, and his shoulder length hair was a cold, slivery white. He wore a great suit of black, runic plate mail, with chain mail under that, and behind him flowed his deep, royal violet cloak. The runes carved into his master crafted armor glowed and throbbed with magical energy and his cloak snapped behind him as he opened the door. " Are all of my generals accounted for?"

"Yes, Arthas, Arajs Lieng, the commanding lich at the ruins of Alterac, arrived this morning, as well as a… gift from the great Lord of the Ice, Ner'zhul." said Kel'Thuzad. "A personal bodyguard and cunning general, the crypt lord Anubiros, and with him a large contingent of undead Nerubians and gargoyles." 

"Well, that's a welcomed surprise."

The two figures turned left at an intersection and followed a hallway down to its end, where a pair of doors similar to those of Arthas' room awaited them. Arthas slammed the doors open and entered, while Kel'Thuzad followed silently behind, unseen by the waiting generals. Kel'Thuzad stole a glance around the impressive room, it was large and very tall oval room, its ceiling nearly disappearing above them. The walls were covered in the finest tapestries and spoils of war, while the floor was dominated by a huge, circular table, covered in a variety of maps. The generals, five of the strongest and most loyal dread lords, three of the mightiest and cunning liches, and the crypt lord, were arrayed around the table, carrying on discussions while studying the maps. All of the talking died down as Arthas entered the chamber, and each of his generals stood at attention as he eyed the room. Arthas stepped forward and, seeing no reason to waste time with formalities, said, "Have all of your legions assembled?"

The reply of "Yes" sounded from every mouth.

"Good, very good. We move out tonight, we will have half the undead and the dark-friends at the front of the column with the spell casters behind them, the food and supplies will be kept in the middle with the siege equipment. The rear guard will compose of the remaining undead, while the gargoyles will scout and act as reinforcements where needed if necessary. We will be moving quickly, split the living troops up into groups so that a rotation of sleeping on the siege machines and wagons can take place. As I am sure you all know, we are invading the Elven kingdom of Quel'Thalas. We should reach the southern borders in less than a fortnight, once we are there, I will split our troops into three armies, the two weaker ones will flank to the east and west, their real role, however, is to act as a net to prevent any escape, as well as to divide their armies. Those of you in charge of either of these units are commanded to slaughter every living thing you come across and to defile the very land itself, leave no settlement standing. I, along with those that are not in the flanking groups, will charge straight up Quel'Thalas, our destination is the capital city of Silver Moon. We will meet the fiercest apposition, but will have the largest number of soldiers, undead and living, to way waste to these pathetic elves.

"My spies tell me we should not have to worry about any of the human nations attacking us, as they are bickering among themselves over the most foolish things, and now that they are aware of the demons' invasion, which has already begun in some places, they see them as a much greater threat, nor do they realize we are allies. This too is how the elves are thinking, they have their bows aimed at a distant threat when they should have their swords drawn for the foe right next to them. We will slide through the shadows and strike before they even perceive us, the ruin and damnation of their race, for we are the Scourge, and we will do our job well."


End file.
